Dying to Know You
by Coneflower Adams
Summary: [Finished: February 21] What happens when one of the newsies gets an unwanted admirer?
1. Petre Manor

A large wagon came to a halt in front of the Petre Manor in New Rochelle, NY. All the newsies' eyes were set on the gigantic two story mansion before them. The red bricks could hardly be seen through the lush, green ivy that covered the outside walls. A wooden deck protruded out of the second story, and at the bottom, a porch wrapped around.   
  
Jack Kelly hopped out of the wagon first. He gestured for the other newsies to join him on the ground. The group consisted of Skittery, Kid Blink, Racetrack, Mush, Boots, Specs, Jake, Itey, and Dutchy. The rest of the newsies who lived at the lodging house on Duane St. either stayed in Manhattan or were going to join the rest at the manor later.   
  
"I can't believe Kloppman owned this!" Jake exclaimed, shaking his head, trying to comprehend the whole situation.  
  
"Well, believe it" Racetrack retorted. He lit a cigar and stuck it firmly between his teeth.  
  
Specs looked up at the mansion. He felt rather uneasy about moving to a place that hadn't been occupied in twenty years. The mansion being located a half-mile from any civilization didn't help either. A figure in the far right window of the second floor caught his eyes. Specs stared at the figure, a shiver running down his back as he did. He jumped ten feet when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.  
  
"Dutchy! Don't do that!" Specs yelled, shrugged his coat back onto his shoulder that had slipped off when he flinched.  
  
Dutchy looked wounded as he held up his hands as a peace offering. "Sorry, Specs. I didn't mean to scare you."  
  
Specs nodded. "That's all right."  
  
Just then, the white mansion door swung open and a tall, balding man appeared. He smiled in delight seeing the new residence had arrived. "Welcome! You must be Kloppman's newsboys."  
  
"Yeah, that's us" Jack answered, his fingers hooked in his belt loop as he walked over to the man.   
  
"I am Mr. Petre, Mr. Kloppman was my brother-in-law" the balding man explained from his perch on the porch. He waved the newsies come into the mansion. "Please, make yourselves at home since this will be your home till further notice. As of Eugene's wishes, I furnished the manor with the finest living equipment."  
  
The newsies strolled into the parlor, walking on marble tiled floors.  
  
"Kloppman had this much money?" Mush asked, eyes widening in surprise.   
  
Mr. Petre nodded, as they moved into the main room. "Actually, he married into money. My sister, Annabelle, inherited this manor from our parents. I inherited the family manor in upstate New York. Annabelle and Eugene lived here for years until the incident."  
  
All the newsies stopped their sightseeing of the main room to look at Mr. Petre. "What incident?" Jack asked.  
  
"Twenty years ago, my niece, Helena, threw herself off the second floor and died from breaking her neck. She was a very troubled girl." Mr. Petre lowered his head, sorrowful. "She was only eighteen years old. My dear sister mourned herself to death when Helena died. After Annabelle's death, Eugene decided to leave for Manhattan to help youth as yourself. Now that he is gone as well, the manor was placed in the care of the occupants of his Lodging House."  
  
"Hey, that's us!" Boots stated the obvious.   
  
Mr. Petre smiled slightly at the excitement the boy's had. He gave them a tour of the mansion showing them everything including the furnished bathrooms with actual running water that would heat up. They all trudged outside to find there were six horses for them to ride around the manor or to the town a mile away.   
  
After so, Mr. Petre left. The newsies went in search of their rooms. They each had their own room which was a giant change from having to sleep in one narrow bunkroom with over a dozen others.   
  
Dutchy threw himself onto the king size bed. The primly tucked, deep blue bed sheets wrinkled on impact. Mr. Petre had his servants clean the mansion and repairs before the newsies arrived. So, all the beds had new bed sheets on them.  
  
"This is the life, huh, Skittery?" Dutchy sighed, lying back and tossing his hat to the floor.  
  
"Yeah, Dutch. Not in a million years I would of thought we'd be livin' it up like this!" Skittery replied. He set down his small bag of belongings to look around the large room.   
  
"I wonder why Kloppman never told us he was rich?" Dutchy said, sitting up.  
  
Skittery shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe he wanted to keep it a secret so we wouldn't take advantage of him."  
  
Dutchy laughed. "Yeah, sure. Good one, Skittery."  
  
"Wha'?" Skittery scrunched his face, hurt from the comment. Before he could retort, the first notes of "Greensleeves" reached their ears. It sounded as if it were coming from an organ from the bottom floor.   
  
"Who's playing that?" Dutchy asked, getting off the bed and walking over to the door to get a better listen.  
  
"I didn't know any of us could play an organ" Skittery stated, joining him.  
  
Mush and Jake appeared out of the room across the hall from theirs. They looked as puzzled too.   
  
"Do you know who's downstairs?" Mush asked.  
  
"Naw" Skittery replied. "I thought we all came up heah."  
  
"Let's go check it out" Jake suggested, walking towards the stairs first.  
  
The four headed downstairs, the rest of the other newsies joining them as well. They were all accounted for save one - Specs. He'd seemed to have disappeared since they had all split to find a bedroom.   
  
The song ended just as the newsies rounded the corner to the music room. Several feet away from the organ was Specs standing still, almost as if frozen in place. He acted like he didn't even hear the rest of the newsies come in.  
  
"Hey Specs" Jack called. When he didn't respond, Jack walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.   
  
Specs suddenly let out a deep heave at the touch. The others watched as he turned around to face them. His skin was as white as snow and his eyes wide under his rimmed glasses. The stunned look on his face was eerie, sending a chill down all the newsies' spines.   
  
"Someone was playin' the organ, but nobody was there" Specs mumbled out, in a voice not quit his own. 


	2. The Surprise That Awaits

Writer note: This part gets a little...uh, racey. I'm not one to write this kind of thing, but it's only here to emphasize the derangeness of Helena. As for Specs and his situation, I do -not- like Specs as I wrote how he *ahem* is in this part and the next. You'll see what I'm talking about when you get there, that's why it's rated PG-13! I just chose Specs because he never gets a good part in a fic. So, enjoy and thanks for r/r!!!  
  
***  
  
Jack cracked an uneasy smile, and asked, "How you know that, Specs?"  
  
Specs looked at him like he was asking if the world was round. "I just toldja I saw it playin' with NO ONE there! It had to be a ghost!"  
  
"Hey, calm down, Specs" Skittery said, walking over to the organ. "There has to be another explanation then a ghost playin' it." He started feeling under the organ. "Medda has this piano that plays by itself when you flip a switch." He smiled when he found what he was looking for. The organ started to play another tune by itself. Skittery stood up straight. "See? It's a player piano type thing just in organ form."  
  
"All right, guys, shows over." Jack shooed all the newsies out from the room after a good laugh and teasing on Specs account.  
  
Jack looked back to see Specs still staring at the organ as if he never heard the taunts. He walked up to him. "You okay?"   
  
Specs nodded, absently. "Yeah, I think so. It just…there was something different in the room before you guys came in. It was like there was another presence in here."  
  
"Probably just your imagination" Jack replied, knowingly. "Why dontcha go to your room and get some sleep. Hey, there's actually running water here. You can take a real bath!" Jack patted Specs on the shoulder reassuringly before walking out himself.   
  
Specs stood there for a moment thinking the whole situation over. Y'know, Jack's right - he thought. It had to of just been my imagination. There's no ghost here. The uneasy feeling was still very much there, but the denial of a ghost was also there too. He snorted then walked out the room.   
  
***  
  
As Jack advised, Specs headed to the room he'd chosen. Some of the newsies were sharing rooms since there were two beds in most of them. Specs chose to be alone in a one-bed room. He was lucky too, there was also a bathroom to go with it.   
  
Specs closed the door to the bathroom. Red towels were neatly hanging from the wall on a rod. The bathtub was the standing kind with four legs. A table near the tub was a perfect place for him to place his glasses while in the tub. Specs turned the gold faucet, waiting till the water became hot before shedding his clothes. He stepped in, and immediately felt better from the heated water hitting his skin. He grinned, satisfied. The tension from earlier melted away. This might not be so bad after all - he thought as he closed his eyes.   
  
Suddenly, a cold wave of air invaded the room. Specs shivered involuntarily, and slid lower into the tub all the way up to his neck. He didn't notice automatically that something was touching him, but he did notice the water turning cooler already. He was enjoying the feel of something massaging his shoulders until he  
realized he wasn't the only one in the room.   
  
Specs' eyes flew wide open, and he hurled around to come face to face with woman. Her tinny, dark brown hair made her face even paler than what it was already. Her sky blue eyes were almost see-through. A faint smile fell over her purple lips as she stared directly at Specs.  
  
From what he could see through the blurriness, made Specs gasp and push away from the back of the tub. He turned all the way around to get a better look at the woman, but hit his back on the faucet behind him. He yelped loudly in pain, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. When he opened them again, the woman was gone.   
  
He reached quickly for his glasses, replacing them on his face. He peered around frantically, only to see the bathroom was empty. He hurried out the tub, and throw a towel around his waist. Specs made sure the towel was secure then looked up to find the woman standing right in front of him. She set a thin finger on his lips. It was ice cold, sending a frigid chill down his spine.   
  
Specs wanted to cry out for help or run away in fright, but the woman's touch made him frozen in place. Her eyes had an oddly familiarity to them. They looked like Kloppman's. Then it hit him - Helena, his daughter! Specs blinked in surprise. Was this really her?   
  
He didn't have time to ponder anything else. Helena bent over, pressing her cold lips to his - making Specs choke. She didn't notice his strangled cough since she continued to kiss him, running her withered hands up and down his arms and back. Specs could feel the fear in him wash away with every exhilarating thrust of Helena's icy hands. He wrapped his arms around her chilling body, forgetting about the world around him. 


	3. And they thought going on strike was a b...

Writer note: This gets even stranger and more PG-13ish! I think I'll stop the ickiness now since I'm grossing myself out writing this. *shakes head* I'll never look at Specs the same way again. *shivers at the bad mental image* Blah. Anyways, enjoy...if you can! :P  
  
***  
  
Dutchy looked up from the oak dresser he was storing his few articles of clothing in. "Did you hear a scream?" he asked Skittery, who was unbuttoning his shirt.   
  
Skittery scrunched his nose. "Come to think of it, I just did."  
  
"Sounded like it came from the room next door." Dutchy stood, heading for the hallway. "Let's go see what it was. After that Specs incident, no telling what might happen next."  
  
"But, that incident was false" Skittery complained, but followed his friend out anyway.   
  
Dutchy knocked on the door of the room next to them. When no one answered, he turned the knob. "Hey, don't just plow in there!" Skittery said, behind him.   
  
Dutchy rolled his eyes. "We lived in the same bunkroom for years now, I don't think whoever is in heah is gonna mind us coming in unannounced." With that, he stepped inside only to be greeted by an empty bedroom. Dutchy spotted the familiar black hat on the bed. "Hey, that's Specs. This must be his room."  
  
He and Skittery walked in more to see the bathroom door closed. "If Specs is in heah, he has to be in there" Skittery pointed out.  
  
Dutchy didn't waste any time. He opened the bathroom door carefully, not to startle the occupant inside. What awaited him and Skittery was more shocking than Pulitzer raising the price of the papes! There, on the tiled floor, was Specs…with a transparent woman atop him.   
  
Helena snapped up to glare at the new arrivals. Her glare was icier than the frosty chill she made in the bathroom. Specs was under her, oblivious to the whole situation. Dutchy and Skittery blankly stared down at them. Helena suddenly faded out of sight and the chill left with her. It took a moment for them to regain their bearings, but they finally did and watched helpless as Specs quietly climbed to his feet - his towel falling off as he did. He was turned backside to them.  
  
Skittery found his voice first. "Specs! What's going on???!!!"   
  
Specs whirled around, surprised to see them there. His glare mirrored Helena's. "What are you two doing in my room?!" he yelled, furiously.   
  
Dutchy blinked then shock his head, trying to rid his brain of the confusion. It didn't help. "We heard a scream from heah and wanted to know if you were all right. Would you please put something on?"   
  
Specs looked down at himself. He shrugged, not seeing anything wrong with being in his birthday suit, but slipped his towel back around his waist anyway.   
  
"Your skin" Dutchy gasped, seeing the redness and raw appearance of Specs' skin on his arms and back.   
  
Specs raised his arm, seeing the same as Dutchy but not paying much mind to it. "So?"  
  
"Will you please tell us who the heck that…thing was on you?" Skittery asked, ever-so-bluntly.   
  
"That thing?" Specs repeated, sounding utterly disgusted. "How dare you call Helena a 'thing'!" He lunged out at Skittery, ready to deck him.   
  
"Calm down, Specs!" Dutchy intervened. He held up his hands as a peace offering. "We just want to know what is going on?"  
  
"It's none of your business to know what I want to do in private, so, GET OUT." Specs emphasized the last two words rather harshly. He pushed his two friends to the door, but stopped them to added. "And, make sure this stays -only- between the three of us."  
  
With that, he slammed the bedroom door in their faces. Dutchy and Skittery stood in silence for a moment. This was weird, definitely weird.   
  
"What do you think we should do?" Skittery asked, lowly.   
  
Dutchy shook his head again. "I don't know. That wasn't Specs. He's never lashed out like that before. That thing…that woman, person, ghost, whatever it is - has a hold on him. His skin was so raw looking."  
  
"We have to figure out something. That…" Skittery halted. "Did he called that thing, Helena?"  
  
Dutchy thought then said, "Yeah, he did! That's Kloppman's daughter!"  
  
Skittery peered around, suspiciously. "C'mon, let's get back to our room before Specs hears us talkin' out heah."   
  
Meanwhile, the coldness returned and Specs smirked at Helena. He wrapped his arms around her slender body and fell into a blissful experience. 


	4. If He Knew What He Do

Dutchy and Skittery spent most of the night discussing the situation at hand. They decided to go to Jack in the morning. They didn't know what else to do about it, but they knew something had to be done if this continued. Even if they had to leave.  
  
The bright rays of the sun peeked through a small crack in the curtains. Dutchy rubbed his eyes, waking. He sat up recalling the events of last night. He groaned, knowing they had to face it today. Dutchy grabbed his glasses then looked over to see Skittery sound asleep in the other bed.   
  
Dutchy threw his legs to the floor, and staggered to the hallway - still in his long-john pants. He hesitantly stepped up to Specs' door, placing his hand on the knob. He was worried about his friend. The angered look in Specs' eyes was frightening even as a memory.   
  
Dutchy shook his head, and pushed the door open slightly. He glanced inside to see Specs lying on his back, sprawled out over the large bed. The puffy red covers were pulled up to his stomach; his skin bland and colorless. Dutchy tiptoed to the bedside. He reached out, touching Specs' shoulder, and shaking him gently.   
  
Specs mumbled incoherently then squinted to see who was next to him. "Dutch?" he said, recognizing the bleach blonde mop. He placed his glasses on his nose to wipe out the blurring. "What are you doing heah?"  
  
"I came to check on you. After last night, I got scared for you" Dutchy replied, in honesty.   
  
Specs blinked in surprise, sitting up…but noticed the uncomfortable feeling on his body. "What are you talkin'…?" He stopped short of the question as he peered under the covers to find he was wearing absolutely nothing. His face turned red in embarrassment and confusion. "Why am I not wearing any clothes?"  
  
"That's what I was wondering last night." Dutchy spotted the full body white long-johns hanging on a chair by the wall, and snatched them for his friend. "Put these on."  
  
Meanwhile, in the next room, Skittery lay on his back in a peaceful sleep. A cold presence floated over him. Skittery fidgeted as the coldness straddled him, icy fingers slithering around his neck ever-so-smoothly. With a thrust of strength, the fingers pressed down at Skittery's windpipe. Skittery suddenly woke, eyes flying wide open. He felt the hardness of something wrapped around his neck, but nothing was there.   
  
Panicking, he started to struggle with the invisible presence. Skittery felt the fingers loosening for a second - just enough time to let him scream out. The fingers, though, tightened when he did. He choked raggedly, feeling faint with every moment that went by.   
  
***  
  
"What were you wondering, Dutch?" Specs' eyes flashed with a mixture of puzzlement and alarm as he tugged on the top of his long-johns. "What's going on?"  
  
Dutchy scrunched his nose. "You don't remember what happen last night?"   
  
Specs was about to answer when they heard the scream ring through the wall. Dutchy's mouth fell open, recognizing who it was. "Skittery!" He ran out the room like lightening. Specs was right behind him, forgetting about buttoning his underclothes.  
  
Skittery was on the verge of losing consciousness when an image of a woman smirking wickedly down at him surfaced into his view to disappear again in the twinkling of light. The door swung open in a swift motion. The coldness wiped away instantly from Skittery's body, leaving him to gasp for air in straggling breathes.   
  
Without delay, Dutchy was at his friend's side. "Skittery, are you okay???" he asked, frantically.   
  
Skittery rolled to his side, rubbing his tender neck. "It was her" he choked out.  
  
Dutchy raised a hand to his glasses to push them back on the bridge of his nose. "Helena? She was here?" Specs tensed up at the mention of Helena. A prickling feeling ran across his back, making him shudder in an odd delight.  
  
"Yeah, it was her. I'll never forget that face." Skittery was about to stand when Dutchy stopped him, pushing his friend lightly back on the bed.  
  
"Hold on, just stay there and recover." Skittery was about to protest when he made eye contact with Specs. Several seconds went by before Specs tore his eyes away.   
  
By now, the attention of the other newsies in the mansion were caught. The ones upstairs raced to the room to see what was going on. "What's happening in heah?" Jack demanded, looking rather baffled. Racetrack, Jake, and Itey were behind him with the same expression. No one noticed Specs slip nonchalantly out the room.   
  
"Can we talk in private?" Dutchy asked, nodding towards the three newsies.   
  
They took the hint. "C'mon guys" Race started. "Let's go downstairs to see what kinda food is in the cupboard." Itey closed the door on the way out.  
  
"Now, what's going on?" Jack asked, crossing his arms over his chest.   
  
Dutchy was about to explain when he seen Specs was missing. "Where's Specs?"  
  
"I bet he went to meet his harlot" Skittery grunted bitterly, with a bite in his tone.   
  
Jack cocked his head. "What?"  
  
Dutchy headed out to the hallway again. "Come with me."  
  
Skittery sat on the bed for a minute looking around with much terror then hurried to check up with them. "Hey, wait for me!" 


	5. The Unwanted Touch of an Icy Hand

Writer tawk: Thank you everyone who has been reading this fic!!! It's grossing me out writing, but it's oddly fun too. Weird! This would of been posted sooner, but my comp wouldn't let me online for a while. EVIL COMP!!!  
  
***  
  
Dutchy, Jack, and Skittery walked right into Specs room, unannounced. They laid eyes on exactly what the problem was. Jack was more than stunned to see it, at least. Specs was sprawled on the floor, unconscious. Helena's transparent body straddled atop him, caressing his neck with her purple lips.   
  
"WHAT THE...???" Jack spurted out, looking more like a fish.   
  
Helena glared up at them, her steely eyes shooting poison. If looks could kill, well, they'd be dead in an instant. She slowly stood, and glided to them standing only a foot away. All the three could do was stay frozen in place as if they'd move, she'd shoot them down with a bolt of lightening.   
  
Finally, her voice chimed through the air, but her lips do not move. **You have intruded in on our privacy too much. Do NOT cross me again or you will be sorry.** She gabbed a finger in Skittery's face. **Especially you.** Helena's wintry presence lingered even after she faded away.   
  
Jack moved first, glancing slightly behind him to see Skittery shaking extremely - horror etched all over his face. Jack reached up and lay a hand on his friend's arm.   
  
"NOOOO!!!" Skittery screamed, jerking violently before taking off down the hallway.   
  
"I'll go after him" Jack mumbled, taking off behind Skittery.  
  
Dutchy was left alone with Specs still lying on the floor, unmoved. He stared down at Specs, afraid to touch him for fear he might be dead. He was pale enough to be, at least. Dutchy bent over, clamping a hand on his friend's arm. He jerked his hand back from the cold body like he had felt water in zero below weather.  
  
But, that was enough to make Specs sit up with awareness. He peered around, disoriented, then seen Dutchy beside him. "What happen? Why am I down here?"  
  
"Helena was with you" Dutchy replied, frowning. "Specs, what is going on with you and that spook?"   
  
Specs held his head, groaning. "I don't know what. She keep coming to me." He sat up, and ran a hand through his unruly locks. "It's like she's controlling me when I don't even know it!"  
  
"What does she want with you?" Dutchy asked, helping his friend to his feet. "I mean, she's a spook! And, you're alive!"  
  
"I know that!" Specs bit back. He found his pants in his bag, and tugged them on. His mind started to click as he did though. That's when it hit him. "She thinks I'm someone else."  
  
Dutchy's brow furrowed. "Like who?"  
  
Specs hit the large oak dresser he was by. "How should I KNOW!" When he saw his friend shrink back from the outburst, Specs' anger ceased and he knelt to the ground. "I'm sorry. I hate this. She's controlling me and she's doing these nasty things..." His cheeks flustered at the thought of what Helena had done to him, and what she had made him do with her. "I need to get out of this room."  
  
With that, Specs pushed pass Dutchy - leaving him speechless. Specs took off running towards the stairs, barreling down them like a bull was chasing him. He stopped at the bottom hearing the other newsies in the kitchen. He went the opposite direction. He spotted a room that looked deserted and ducked into it, closing the door.   
  
The room was sadly familiar. Against the far wall from the door was the organ that had first scared him the day before. Specs wanted to run again as far away from it as he could, but felt drawn to it for some deranged reason. He slid onto the bench and placed his hands on the keys.   
  
Even though he had no knowledge of how to play, the melancholic tune that processed from the organ rang through the air as Specs pressed down on the smooth keys. This time it wasn't the organ playing on it's own.   
  
An icy finger creep along his back, making him twitch but not miss a note. Helena melted into view next to him with a satisfied smile plaster on her face. **We will be together soon, my darling. Then no one will tear us apart again.** 


	6. I Think We Need Reinforcements

Writer Tawk: This is the first time in a LONG times that I'm gonna finish a fairly long fic in such a short amount of time! *happy dance* Thank you to everyone who has been reading!!! :) Sorry if I grossed anyone out :D  
  
  
Part 6: I Think We Need Reinforcements   
  
"Skittery!" Jack called to his running friend as they headed for the stable. He finally caught up with Skittery, grabbing his arm and bring him to a halt.   
  
"Jack, let GO!" Skittery tried to jerk away from Jack's grasp, but he was too strong for the skinnier newsie.   
  
Jack glared at him, furiously. "I'll let you go if you tell me what the heck is going on!"   
  
"You wanna know what's going on?" The gleam in Skittery's eyes were disturbing. "I'll tell ya what's going on. A crazy spook is trying to kill me and take over Specs' mind! That's what's going on!!! Now let go so I can get out of here!" He tried pulling away, but Jack held even tighter on his arm.   
  
"Do you know who that girl was?" Jack asked, not satisfied.   
  
Skittery took a deep breath, not squirming as much as he was. Jack could be so difficult. "That was Kloppman's daughter, Helena. Y'know, the one that threw herself off the balcony of the second floor? Well, she's out to get us for some deranged reason!"  
  
"Skittery, please calm down" they heard Dutchy call. They looked to see the blonde running up to join them. "Now let's talk about this rationally so we can come up with a solution."  
  
Skittery rolled his eyes. "I have my solution. I'm leaving; going back to Manhattan. It was much safer there without a ghost goil trying to smother you."  
  
"No, Skittery, you can't!" Dutchy yelled, showing his nerve on edge.   
  
"AND WHY NOT, BLONDIE?!" the taller newsie shouted, enrage. He viciously pushed Dutchy's shoulders, making him stumble backwards.   
  
Jack jumped between them before an all out fight broke out. "TWO YOU STOP IT!"   
  
The three heard footsteps shuffling out towards them. "What's going on out heah???" Racetrack hollered. Boots and Kid Blink followed him.   
  
"It's a long story" Dutchy heaved, peering at the ground, exhausted.  
  
"Well, we wanna hear it" Blink said, not amused.   
  
"But," Race started. "could you tell us when Specs learned how to play an organ?"  
  
Jack blinked, dazed for a second. "What do you mean?"  
  
"He means, Specs is playing that organ and this time it's not playing by itself!" Boots cried, obviously troubled by the fact. "It's strange; like there's some other presence in the room with him."  
  
It only took Dutchy a few moments before it registered in his brain. He darted off running for the mansion.   
  
Race scratched his chin, gesturing back toward the mansion. "What's with him?"  
  
"It's apart of that long story we'll get around to telling you...maybe" Jack answered, slumping his posture and feeling like jumping into a barrel of cold water. That would be much better than going through this off-the-wall situation. The newsies' lives were too rough, and the mansion was a great reward for their hardship. He was NOT going to let some spook drive them out of their new home.   
  
"Over my dead body" Jack mumbled, almost not audible. "I'm going to visit Mr. Petre."  
  
Skittery peered at Jack with widened eyes. "And, how will he help us?!"  
  
Jack shrugged. "I got a plan." Snickers and snorts came out at that reply. Jack glared at his friends. "Do you have a better idea?"  
  
Race shook his head. "No. It was funny hearing you say that."  
  
"Jack..." Skittery whined. "Can I come with you? PLEASE?"  
  
Jack thought for a moment. "I don't know, Skittery. You're pretty shaken up. You should go settle down for a while."  
  
"NOOOO!!! I'm -not- going back in there!" Skittery cried, shaking his head vigorously. "That place is the reason why I'm shaken up!  
  
"I know that" Jack retorted, rolling his eyes  
  
Race stepped in. "Skittery, if you're scared to be alone, we'll look after you - not letcha be alone."  
  
All Skittery could do was whimper and contort his face. Boots put a reassuring hand on the frightened newsie's shoulder. He knew exactly how it felt to be noivous.  
  
"You come with me" Jack said to Blink.  
  
Blink gaped at Jack with a 'huh' expression. "Me?"  
  
"Yeah, you! Now come on!"  
  
With a groan, Blink followed Jack to the stable.   
  
"Could you tell Dutch where we're going?" Jack asked, leading a horse out the stable - Blink doing the same. "We might be gone a while."  
  
They both mounted their horsed; Blink finding it rather difficult to ride one, but Jack having no trouble at all. "Hey Jack, how do you know where Mr. Petre is?" Boots asked.  
  
Jack smirked. "I just know." They took off down the dusty road, roaring laughter could be heard even over the horses' galloping. 


	7. What's Behind Door Number One

Part 7: What's Behind Door Number One  
  
Dutchy made it into the mansion in record time, heading straight for the music room. The first thing he saw was the rest of the newsies crowding the doorway, watching something very interesting. Dutchy pushed his way through to find Specs sitting at the organ; a melancholy tune seeping out that was so intense, it could drill holes into your bones. Specs seemed oblivious of anything around him, his back hunched over the keys.   
  
Dutchy shooed the others away, promising he'd explain what's going on later. He closed the door, and walked casually to Specs' side - an icebox manifestation set next to him. Dutchy found himself shivering involuntarily.   
  
Specs plucked out the last notes of the tune then raised his head, looking at Dutchy. "Hi Dutch, what are you doing here?" he asked, an eerie calmness in his voice.  
  
Dutchy stared into the glassy eyes of his friend, frightened he might say something to set him off again. "Just coming to see if you were all right."  
  
"I'm fine" Specs replied, monotone. He stood. "I think I'll go back to my room to..." he paused slightly bemused. "...rest."   
  
Dutchy held out a hand, catching Specs' arm. "You sure you don't want company? I mean, you've been frazzled from all the strange happens."  
  
Specs glanced down at the hand that held his arm then back up at Dutchy throwing visual daggers at him. "No, I want to be alone, if you don't mind." He tugged away, and was gone in an instant from the room.   
  
With an exasperated sigh, Dutchy fell to his knees, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. "I wish we would of never even come to this place." He landed his hand on the wooden floor to keep balanced, but found the floor next to him loose.   
  
"Wonder why" he whispered. There was the conclusion that the house was plain old and the floor board was coming loose. But, a feeling in his gut was telling him to check this out.   
  
Dutchy slipped his hands between the boards, pulling at the loose one. It raised up rather easily. Whoever placed it there didn't do a good job of replacing the board. He looked inside the hole he'd made. There - revealed - was a small, rusty trunk. Dutchy plucked it from the hole, setting it down beside him and opening the top which had no lock.   
  
He peered in. "What the...?" Dutchy picked up the first item: a diary with the name "Helena" engraved in it. "Hope she doesn't mind if I read it" he chided, flipping it open to a page almost exactly in the middle.   
  
"My love, Harold, is dead. The scoundrel, Kurt Jenkins, is to blame. He shot Harold for no explained reason! Harold will never know the love I have carried for him. I will never hear Harold play his angelic music on our organ again. With Harold, I must die too. One day, I will have my revenge on Kurt Jenkins. But, for now, I must be with my love."  
  
Dutchy shrunk back slightly. "This must of been her last entry." He moved to close the diary when a newspaper clipping fell out on to his lap. He picked it up. The headline read: Local Musician Killed by Good Friend. "Must not of been that -good- of a friend." He unfolded the rest of the article where a photograph was printed.   
  
Dutchy's eyes widened almost to saucer shaped circles. "Oh my goodness! It's Specs and Skittery." Two men in the photo appeared to look as duplicates of his two friends. The names were Harold Franklin and Kurt Jenkins. Dutchy jumped up, "I have to tell Specs!!!", and run out the room with the article and diary in hand.   
  
***  
  
Twenty minutes after they had left, Jack and Kid Blink were at the doorstep of a small country house in town. "Why, hello, Mr. Kelly" Mr. Petre greeted with a warm smile. "What brings you boys by?"  
  
Jack stood with his fingers hooked in his belt loops. Blink stood slightly behind him. "We need to talk to you about Kloppman's daughter, Helena."  
  
"What about Helena?" Mr. Petre said, a stutter in his voice which sounded fidgety.   
  
"We've had a few encounters with her, I don't know what to call it, ghost?"  
  
Mr. Petre paled as if he'd heard this scenario before. Jack could tell the older man was holding a secret back. "Come in. Tell me what has been happening, and I'll tell you everything I know."  
  
***  
  
Meanwhile, there was much activity in Specs' room. Skittery had told all the newsies to stay away from Specs because of what was going on with him. So, Specs was alone in his room...almost.   
  
"Yes, Harold, that is the suit I want you to wear."   
  
Specs blankly stripped all his clothes beside his long-johns. A gray three piece suit lay on his bed, ready to be adorn.  
  
Helena pressed her cold body against his warm body, giving him an open-mouth kiss. "You will look beautiful for your cross over to be with me in eternity." 


	8. Part 8: Help Me If You Can, I’m Feeling ...

Part 8: Help Me If You Can, I'm Feeling Down  
  
Dutchy made a mad dash up the wide stairs, literally knocking down Boots who was climbing downstairs with Jake and Itey.   
  
"Hey Dutchy, watch where you're going!" Boots called, excepting Itey's help up.   
  
They watched Dutchy nearly trip up the stairs and around the corner. "Where is he going so fast?" Itey asked.  
  
Jake shook his head. "I don't know, but maybe we should follow him - might be something about Specs."   
  
Meanwhile, Dutchy had reached Specs' room and was squabbling wildly to get the door open. The knob was locked shut.   
  
The other three newsies ran up. "What's wrong?" Itey asked, concerned.   
  
"Specs is in trouble! His door is locked and we need to get in!" Dutchy yelled, not controlling his frantic tone at all. He moved back, banging his shoulder against the door but it did not budge.   
  
"Here," Jake started, holding Dutchy back before he slammed again. ", let us help!"   
  
Dutchy agreed, wordlessly. Him, Jake, and Itey trailed back then ran full force into the bedroom door. It flew open, making all three tumble to the floor in a heap. Dutchy snapped his head up instantly to find Specs squatting on the window seal and appeared to be wearing a light gray suit.   
  
"NO!" Dutchy yelled, jumping up. He caught Specs' hand just in time before he fell to the ground.   
  
Specs suddenly lifted his head, fright and confusion engraved on his sheet-white face. "Dutchy, please don't let me fall!" he cried, his voice cracking as he dangled in the air.  
  
By then, Jake and Itey were there to help pull Specs back in the room. Specs fell to his knees after they drug him over the window seal. "What just happen?" he heaved, feeling his heart wanting to explode in his chest.   
  
"You jumped!" Dutchy shouted, bending down to his friend's level.   
  
Specs pondered in silence before beginning to shake involuntarily. "Helena wanted me to die like she did so we could be together. But...it isn't ME who she wants to be with. She thinks I'm someone else!"   
  
"I know" Dutchy replied, gesturing for Boots to bring him the diary he had dropped outside the room. "She thinks you're Harold Franklin, a man she was in love with but was killed by another man named Kurt Jenkins." He raised the article in Specs' face.  
  
Specs' mouth dropped open at the sight. "That looks like me and Skittery!!!"  
  
"Helena thinks you are Harold and Skittery is Kurt!"  
  
"This is too strange" Jake mumbled, placing a hand on his forehead.   
  
"Now we need to figure out how to get rid of her, because we are not leaving" Dutchy said, firmly.  
  
Specs stared blankly at the floor for a moment in deep thought. "I think I know how to get rid of her."  
  
Dutchy grabbed his shoulder. "How?"  
  
"Destroy the organ in the music room" Specs replied, nodding at the idea.   
  
"Let's go then." Dutchy stood up, offering a hand to his friend. "We need to find an ax."  
  
***  
  
Only minutes later, Dutchy stood over the organ holding an ax high in the air. Specs stood helplessly near the door, a pained expression on his face. He'd been possessed by Helena so often in the last twenty-four hours, the emotions in her had seeped into him. He felt the urge to stop the destruction of the beautifully carved wooden organ, but in his gut he knew it needed to be done.   
  
Skittery appeared in the room harboring an ax too. "Let me at it! I want that spook gone now!" He swung; his ax connecting with the wood with an eerie wail.   
  
At the same time of the connection, Specs' hand flew to his temple and he doubled over in agony. Dutchy joined in on the chopping, hearing the cries of his friend but ignoring them. It had to be done! Hot tears were flowing down Specs' cheek as he felt a shivering presence rip from his side.   
  
Dutchy and Skittery didn't stop till the organ was in small pieces; they're breathing heavy and they're arms exhausted. They looked over they're work and smiled knowing it had to be over.   
  
All the sudden, the door slammed shut and wind from nowhere started swirling around the room. Dutchy and Skittery dropped their axes, scooting back from the light that flashed in the middle of the room. Helena's blazing eyes faded into view along with her translucent, floating body.   
  
**That, gentlemen, was a big mistake! YOU SHALL PAY DEARLY FOR THIS!** 


	9. Peace Comes to Those Who Except It

Writer talk: Last part, YAY! I may of left a couple loose ends like "what happen with Jack?". Frankly, my dears, I could fit him in the story anymore so oh well :D This is how it's ending and I'm happy with that. Thank you Kora, Bluehag, Monkey/Haley, and everyone else who have keep up with this fic!!!   
  
***  
  
Part 9: Peace Comes to Those Who Except It  
  
Dutchy and Skittery shrunk back against the wall not tearing their sight off the wintry fury before them. Helena rose high in the air, nearly touching the ceiling.   
  
**YOU MEDLING FOOLS! YOU TOUGHT YOU COULD NULLIFY ME.** She jabbed her ice-jagged finger at Skittery; her mouth still not moving when she spoke. **KURT, YOU SHALL PAY YOUR DEBT TO HAROLD AND I.** She turned her finger to Dutchy. **I DO NOT KNOW WHO YOU ARE, BUT HAVE NO DOUBT YOU ARE CONSPIRING WITH THIS ENEMY.**   
  
Helena raised her hands over her head, fixing to clap them together when the faint voice of Specs broke her concentration. "Helena, you're making a mistake!" The other two newsies could barely see through the snowy wind around them. Specs was against the wall trying to keep his balance - holding his glasses on his face - and had discarded the heavy gray coat. Helena turned toward him, her fury lowing to a low degree.  
  
**What are you talking about, Harold?! That is the man who killed you!**  
  
Specs pushed off the wall to walk to her. "Helena, can't you tell I'm NOT Harold?! My name is Mark Davis and I'm alive!"  
  
**This can't be!" Helena grabbed her head like she was having a migraine. **THEY TURNED YOU AGAINST ME!** She threw herself at Specs, locking him in an open-mouth kiss. Her long fingernails raked his back, wrenching through his white dress shirt, and leaving extensive, red marks.   
  
**Helena, that is ENOUGH** a stern tone arose. A dim light flashed and a familiar figure appeared. Dutchy and Skittery watched, shock at who was before them - Kloppman.   
  
Helena instantly stopped, dropping Specs' exhausted body to the floor. **Papa?** she mumbled, in an almost childlike voice.  
  
Kloppman went to her, grasping both her arms. **Leave these poor boys alone. They aren't the people you think they are.**  
  
**How can that be?** she asked, the teardrops rolling down her cheek and freezing on her chin.  
  
Kloppman smiled, and moved aside to reveal another spirit shining brighter than him. Helena's washed out eyes grew wide. **Harold** she whispered.  
  
The figure that resembled Specs greatly - but in a more adult manner - hovered in front of Helena, taking her hand in his. **I'm right here, Helena. I've forgiven Kurt. You can stop this nonsense and come home with us.**  
  
**I can?** Harold nodded. Helena looked at Dutchy and Skittery. **I'm so sorry** she said, then turned to Specs. He stood still. Helena reached out her hand, that seemed to radiate warmth now, fondling his cheek. **Please forgive me.**  
  
Specs nodded, not feeling the usual exciting sensation of her frozen touch anymore, but a warm, friendly caress. **I know you were confused, and you loved Harold so much you would do anything to be with him. I forgive you.**  
  
**Thank you.** With that, Helena took her lost love's hand and they faded away. Kloppman was left, hovering in the middle of the room. **Boys, you can live here in peace. You don't have to worry about anything happening anymore.** And, he was gone too.   
  
Specs smiled, knowingly. "She's finally home."  
  
THE END! 


End file.
